They Know How To Swim
by words-with-dragons
Summary: "I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim." / When Yung brings a scrawny 9-year-old street rat onboard, the crew of the Waterbender isn't sure what to think. Against all reason, Yung stakes a gamble on the bruised and battered boy, willing to take on the challenge of helping him become part of the crew - and a part of their family. Yung-Kai-crew centric.
1. year one: part one

THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

* * *

 **A/N: This fic shall explore Kai's first year (at least) on the ship in-depth. This fic is immensely Kai/crew-centric, and almost no mentions of Jinora will be made. There will be little tidbits snuck in tho, and all of the various crew members and their backstories will be developed.**

 **During this first year on the ship, some of the crew - such as Pabu, Skoochy, Momo and Longshot (who joins six months from this point) - shall not really be mentioned. Each chapter will be from two characters POV, possibly more, and all around the same 5,000+ word length. Without further ado, enjoy.**

* * *

 _year one  
_

"I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim."  
-Can You Feel My Heart, Bring Me The Horizon

 _[part one]_

* * *

The pudgy man strolling down the alleyway seems like an easy enough target. Kai clutches his knife tighter, his knuckles turning white underneath the crumbs of dirt and grime covering his hand. He blows a tuft of his dark hair out of his eyes, squinting through the dark, waiting.

One heartbeat, two...

Kai hurtles himself forwards, his knife a blur of silver, hoping to land somewhere near the leg or lower, higher if need be. The man swerves to the left, the knife whizzes by his head as he ducks to try to regain his bearings. Kai realizes too late he's mismanaged his weight and he tilts, unhinged, and stumbles. He throws out his hands to catch himself, the knife slipping from his grip (he curses because rule #1 of survival is _don't ever ever lose your weapon_ ) as his palms scrape across the cold, jagged stone of the street floor. His bleeding fingers shoot out to grab the hilt of his knife, but the man kicks it away.

Kai scrambles to his feet, his heart hammering. His fingers curl into fists and he can feel droplets of blood collecting, dripping down the slope of his palm. He's used to pain though, and it's easy to ignore.

The man looks mildly shocked, his brow furrowing, as if he wasn't expecting his attacker to be a child. Kai simply glares. He knows that him being a child has never been a good enough of a reason for people to cut him slack. His eyes dart in between the exit of the alleyway, to the man, and to the man's sword. He recognizes the type, having seen it around the ports of Omashu often enough, knows it means one thing: _pirate._

Oh God, this isn't going to be pretty.

Kai braces himself for a fight, and his cool slips when, instead of attacking, the man asks, "Watcha doing out here, all alone?"

Kai resists the urge to roll his eyes. _Just doing some shopping since I was in the neighbourhood, isn't it obvious._ But it does surprise him. "Why do you care?" he snaps, hating the way his voice wavers. His fists loosen, his fingers twitch. His knife is only a few feet away, but he knows he'd never be able to grab it in time.

The man takes a step forward, and Kai's legs move him a half a step back, slightly confused and he hates it. Something in his gut tells him the man won't hurt him, which is strange in of itself, but now he's even further away from his knife and it's even more unnerving. He eyes the man warily. What's his angle? What does he have to gain? Why isn't he attacking?

"Where are your parents?" the man says with just a note of sympathy.

Kai narrows his eyes. Ah, so it's like that, is it? "Don't have any," he says shortly. There's a lull, a pause, and Kai wonders how fast the man's reaction time is; fast enough to avoid his knife, but fast enough to stop him from getting it back? "If you're not going to attack me, can I have my knife back?" he asks finally. It can't hurt to ask, right?

The man picks up the handle and is midway in handing it back when he retracts his arm. Kai's hand grabs at now empty air, he glowers fiercely at the man, who wags a finger at him. "Not so fast kiddo. You were about to attack me a minute ago, you nearly took my eye out. Why's that?"

Kai raises an eyebrow, giving him a dry stare. He thought the man was smarter than this. "You do what you have to do on the streets, not what you want to."

And it's true. If he did what he wanted to do, it would most certainly not be attacking people. He'd be going home, or maybe to school (it's a weekday, right? That's what regular kids did, right?) or maybe be in a good orphanage for once. He certainly wouldn't be stealing, or knowing how to use a knife half as well as he does.

The man nods. "Fair point," he concedes. "You got a name kid?"

Kai stays silent. _Kiddo, kid._ He isn't a child. He's never been treated like one. What's this man playing at? What does he possibly have to gain by making nice with some street rat who almost took his eye out? Why is he doing this? Why is he being...nice?

The man continues, and Kai can't tell if he's discouraged or encouraged by his silence. "My name's Yung." Kai hates the way his brain makes a mental note of it. "I'm a pirate. I work on a ship called the _Waterbender_ , you ever heard of it?"

Indeed, Kai has. Some of the gangs, including the Triple Threat Triads, do business with pirates, and the name of the ship rings a bell. Kai knows he's lucky he was able to escape the gang life. He wonders if they're still looking for him. Probably. They'll be pissed when they realize he's spent all the gold he had stolen.

"It's run by Captain Zaheer," Yung says. Slowly, Kai relaxes. Somehow, this business is common ground. That, he can handle. And the man having a name makes him seem like less of a threat, strangely enough. "You ever been on a boat before?"

Kai shakes his head as an answer; he still doesn't feel like speaking. Hitching rides on carriages is one thing, but the only way he would have gotten onto a boat is by being a stowaway, and he's not going to risk drowning in the ocean for a ship that might even not take him where he wants to go. Omashu is all he's ever known, and Kai's willing to stay here a little longer if it means he'll get by. Although, he reconsiders, with the Triads, he probably should think about getting out of town. Where he'll go, he isn't sure, but he's allowed to hope it'll be better than where he is now, right?

Yung keeps talking, which just leaves Kai more confused, because what is the point to this, exactly? Yung seems even more confused as he asks, "Would you like to?"

Kai has to take a moment to remember the man's original question - _you ever been on a boat before? -_ and looks to him, puzzled. "What?" Surely he must have misheard.

Yung shrugs. "I could show you the ship, if you'd like," he offers. "Who knows, maybe you could even become Zaheer's cabin boy or something."

Is... Kai's brow furrows. Is Yung saying he'd take him off the streets? Out of confusion more than anything else, Kai takes a tiny step forwards. Yung holds out his knife, and Kai takes it gratefully, instantly feeling safer, more relaxed.

"My name's Kai," he says quietly. He tucks the knife into his makeshift sheath attached to one of the loops of his pants that's supposed to hold a sword. He has a feeling he won't need it anytime soon. His lips curve upwards slightly, for a few seconds.

Yung smiles, looking simultaneously nervous and relieved. "Nice to meet ya, Kai." And somehow Kai knows that he _means_ it. "Can I show you the ship now?"

Kai nods. Yung does to, and then gestures to the exit of the alleyway. Feeling awkward (it's been so long, forever maybe, since he doesn't have to be hostile) Kai falls into step with him as they walk out of it together. Yung doesn't say anything else as they walk down the street towards the harbour, which Kai is grateful for. He isn't sure what to say, for one thing, and for another, he's still trying to wrap his mind around what's happening.

Whenever something feels too good to be true, it usually is. Maybe whatever this is (he's still not sure if it qualifies as good or not) will last a little longer, but then the other shoe will drop, and he'll be right back where he started: bruised and battered on the streets, all alone.

The _Waterbender_ is bigger than most merchant ships Kai has seen, but still on the smaller side when it comes to pirate ships. One of the few things he does enjoy is watching the sunrise (it makes him feel hopeful, strangely enough) and the merchant and pirate ships from all along the Gold Coast often sail into Omashu for trading during that time.

There's a gleam of pride in Yung's eyes, and Kai remembers that this ship, as beaten down and pirate-y as it may be, is his home. Kai wonders what it's like, to have a home. If he had one, would he be proud of it too?

Kai's legs are shaking as he follows Yung up the plank, and he thinks he might fall over as he steps over the railing and onto the deck of the ship. Some of the ship's crew are scattered around: a giant of a man is polishing the steering wheel, two large-set bald men are speaking quietly with one another, a man in glasses sitting at a desk pushed near the furthest railing, deeply absorbed in whatever he's reading. He looks up though, as a silence falls over him and his colleagues.

Kai shifts uncomfortably, all too aware that all they're eyes are on him. He can't see the Captain until a short, barrel-chested bald man drops from the rope grid leading to the mast up above and lands neatly on his feet. His eyes are narrowed in anger, first at Kai, and then at Yung, who stares back unflinchingly.

Kai has to feel a spark of respect for him.

"Yung, what the hell is this?" Zaheer snaps.

"A new recruit," Yung says simply.

"Yung, he is not a stray cat - this isn't just a charity case, I can't have a child on my ship! He'll get himself killed, steal us all blind if I don't get a dagger in him first," Zaheer growls, jabbing his scarred finger at Yung. "In fact, it doesn't even matter, you'll be cleaning the toilets for the next week ya hear me Yung? I'm not taking this bullshit. The kid goes."

"He's handy with a knife," Yung insists. "He's a little younger than most are when they first join, but so what, if he can pull his weight? Maybe he can be a cabin boy or something."

Zaheer frowns, but it almost, _almost,_ seems as if he's considering it, and Kai almost ( _almost_ ) dares to hope that he is (which is stupid, because hope just leads to disappointment). Why exactly he wants to stay on this ship with this angry Captain and Yung, he isn't sure. Maybe it's because it's been so long since someone believed in him, if anyone ever has.

Slowly, Zaheer looks away from Yung and over his shoulder, his glare settling onto Kai.

The boy struggles to turn his face into a mask. It's like the streets: if he shows fear, he'll be eaten alive.

" _Are_ you handy with that knife boy?" Zaheer asks. Kai swallows hard, nodding. "Prove it."

Oh, how thankful Kai is for people's brief moments of stupidity. He rolls his eyes, his voice surprisingly steady as he replies, "I'm not throwing away my only weapon when I'm surrounded by pirates."

For a moment, Kai thinks Zaheer almost smiles. "Smart kid," the Captain says approvingly. "You can stay." Kai's lungs cave in with relief, and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was even holding because _he can stay he's off the streets he's on the ship how is this happening why is this happening he's away from the streets -_

"But the next time I give you an order, you obey it, got it?" Zaheer says, far more coldly than before.

Kai quickly nods. The Captain still doesn't like him, or trust him, and Kai knows it'd be all too easy for Zaheer to throw him overboard on a measly whim of dislike.

Zaheer starts shouting orders, and Kai picks up bits and pieces: "Hoist the anchor, raise the sails, we're leaving, Lefty, get to the steering wheel, it's fine for now!" Zaheer swivels back around to face Yung, giving him a warning look that clearly says _You're so dead._

"He's your responsibility Yung," Zaheer says in a low voice. "So you better know what you're doing."

Kai wonders what Zaheer will do to Yung if he does anything wrong. Murder him? Somehow, Kai thinks the Captain could manage it. He doesn't like Zaheer's dark eyes though, so he takes a small step closer to Yung, and glances up at him nervously.

Yung's voice is steady. "Don't worry Captain, I know exactly what I'm doing."

Kai knows he's lying. He hopes it can become truth.

* * *

Lefty waits approximately five hours after the kid - "Men, this is Kai," - boards the ship. In those five hours, Yung has given him a tour of the ship, a brief schedule which mostly centres around meals and breaks in between chores, and Kai's given a small bed at the end of the sleeping quarters Lefty shares with half the crew.

Lefty then corners Yung in the infirmary and is not going to let the him leave until he gets some answers.

Lefty promptly smacks Yung upside the head when the first mate fixes him with a dry stare. "What the hell are you doing? If that kid does anything it's on your head-"

"I know, Lefty," Yung says tiredly. "Trust me, I'm fully aware-"

"Are you? Because you're already letting the kid out of your sight and Ryu's not exactly the best babysitter, you could have at least left with him Appa," Lefty scolds. It's moments like these that he remembers that he is older than Yung by about 10 years, and therefore has loads of wisdom that Yung doesn't (okay, maybe not loads).

"Appa was busy, and Kai will be fine," Yung says. "I just wanted to ask you if you can take a look at him, see if you know anything that might help."

Lefty supposes that's true. He's dirty, covered in scrapes and bruises that surely haven't been treated properly. A little medicine, a bit of a bath, wouldn't hurt at all. The pirate still thinks the kid might run off first chance he gets, but it's hard to get a reading on him. But ever since their last medic, Sei, had retired, Lefty was the most experienced when it came to medicine.

Lefty sighs. "I'll take a look."

Kai's jittery when Lefty takes him to the infirmary in the morning of the next day, a light layer of dust over everything in the room. Kai had taken up residence in a bed in the main sleeping quarters, but Lefty doubts the kid even got a wink of sleep. Yung says Kai is still restless. That much is obvious.

"We're just gonna take a look at you Kai," Yung says gently, even as Kai continues to regard him warily. "See if there's anything we can do to help. You got any cuts and bruises?"

Kai gestures to his scraped knees. "There's these." They're badly scabbed over, clearly not properly treated nor fully healed, but Lefty's grateful there's no real signs of infection. "And uh," he hikes up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal arms covered in bruises, a nasty purple one on his shoulder. There's a few small cuts on his fingers; mishandling his knife, maybe?

Lefty doesn't bother to ask how he got the rest of them. He isn't quite sure he really wants to know.

"It'll be easier to treat them if you take off your shirt," Lefty says slowly, unsure of how comfortable the kid will be with the idea. Indeed, Kai does frown, eyes still wary, but he tugs his shirt over his head. There's even more bruises on his back and stomach, and a couple of healed scars, too.

Lefty suddenly understands just why Yung stuck his neck out for the boy when he sees Kai's ribs lightly jutting through his skin, covered in some more scars. The boy has clearly never had enough to eat a single day in his life.

Kai curls in on himself after a moment, as if trying to shield himself from their staring. "So? You gonna patch me up or not?" he says, failing to sound hostile due to the slight quiver of his voice. As if they might reject him, say it's too much.

"Just figuring out what's needed," Lefty replies, sharing a quick look with Yung. "Hold on kid."

Lefty barely hears Kai's grumble of, "I'm not a kid," as he turns towards the cupboard and rummages for the needed materials: bandages, rubbing alcohol and a potion that would remove any traces of infection. He still thinks Yung is insane - absolutely insane - but he understands why, now at least, the boy had gotten such a reaction from the usually logically thinking first-mate. Everything about this boy is a cry for help that no one's ever answered.

Kai fidgets even while Lefty sets to work on the wounds, flinches when Lefty's hands make contact. Yung's brow furrows at it, and Lefty knows they're thinking along the same lines: when was the last time, if ever, this boy was shown any affectionate physical contact? But Kai lets Lefty do his work, and Kai's overall in much better shape than he was. He'll have a better chance at healing, anyhow.

Throughout the day, Kai's quiet. Zaheer doesn't seem to quite know what to do with him, so he just leaves him alone, which is probably better for now. Yung's duties as first-mate were never anything ridiculous, but Lefty can see him grappling between that and his newfound responsibility of Kai, as he struggles to make sure the crew's on schedule and keeping Kai, who has no idea what to do with himself either, somewhat relaxed.

They had left Omashu shortly after Kai's infirmary visit, and Lefty can remember the boy's eyes growing wide as they sailed away, as if surprised they hadn't thrown him back where they had found him. Even now, the way the boy fidgets and never looks any of them quite in the eye (except for Yung) has Lefty convinced that if they weren't out at sea, the boy would find some way to bolt.

The lack of conversation doesn't really surprise Lefty. Most of the times, chitchat is sparse during the day except for lulls in between chores. By this point they all know pretty much everything there is to know about each other - perhaps a little too much - and there's not much that needs to be discussed. Talking during meals is far more common, reminiscing or sharing thoughts about the day when everything's settled down and there's no hot sun beating down on their necks. Kai's quiet at meals too, busy shovelling his food into his mouth at a rate that even surprises Appa, eating second helpings of portions big enough to feed a grown man rather than a scrawny boy who can't be older than 10. Daw seems to take it to heart though, and by dinner he's made sure Kai's portions are just as big as everyone else's.

Kai looks him in the eye on the second day. Lefty takes it as a sign of trust, and wonders when the rest of them will earn it.

By the third day, Zaheer seems to decide that Kai should start pulling his own weight, so he puts the boy on mop duty. Lefty oversees it most days, the Captain and Yung busier with other tasks like deciding on trading routes and balancing the budget, and the area they mop most often is just by his position by the steering wheel, anyway.

Imaru and Ryu are on mopping duty with him, and Ryu - 17 years old and already looking incredibly bored with the world - shows only a small spark of interest as he teaches Kai how to do it properly. Kai does his best to follow the motions, and when Ryu shoots a glare at Kai, the kid fiercely returns it.

"You're doing it wrong," Ryu snaps.

"Doesn't that just mean you're a terrible teacher?" Kai snaps back.

Ryu rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath and Imaru intervenes before either can say another word. Lefty is glad. Ryu, for one, needs to learn patience, a trait often lacking in a teenager, and he's pretty sure that Kai's a more skilled fighter than he looks, if not in actual prowess than in spirit. The boy's a fighter, that much is clear, judging by his bruises.

Imaru goes over the motions far more slowly, gently, and Kai does better under his guidance. As per Yung's request, Lefty gives him an update of the afternoon.

"It's only day two Yung," Lefty says, lowering himself into a chair in the quiet dining hall. Yung plops down tiredly.

"It's not that," Yung sighs. "Kai's doing better than I hoped, actually, in some ways. It's just...Zaheer has an idea of a big raid pay-off in seven months, but we can't even think about putting it in motion without a medic."

Their old medic, Sei, has retired nearly a month prior, content to live out the rest of his days in a sleepy little fishing village. Lefty had been sad to see him go, but understanding. Sei was nearly 70 years old, far older than most pirates and the oldest of the entire crew by nearly 30 years. Even Lefty (who is now the oldest and just shy of his 42nd birthday) pales in comparison to that experience.

"So, all we have to do is get a medic," Lefty replies.

"Easier said than down," Yung frowns, and then brightens. "So, you think Kai's afternoon went okay?"

Lefty nods, but adds, "You could just ask him yourself, you know."

"Do you really think he'd tell me the truth?" Yung counters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lefty tilts his head to the side, considering. Beyond finding him in Omashu, and Kai's name, and his battered state, they know absolutely nothing about him. They don't know how he ended up on the streets, if he has any family, or even how old he is. The boy is tightly coiled like a spring, ready to bolt, and not ready to let anyone in.

"Maybe," Lefty shrugs, not willing to admit that Yung is most likely right. If anything had gone wrong, he doubts Kai would have divulged the information. "But it's only day two Yung," he reminds him again. "You still have time."

Yung runs a hand over the sparse patch of hair under his chin, just starting to turn into a decent goatee. "I hope so," he says, and Lefty isn't quite sure what he means by it, and isn't quite sure he even wants to know, so the older man keeps his mouth shut, even as the first mate walks away.

Yung can't help but worry. A few times day he has a spark of maddening self doubt – what the hell was he thinking? How can he try to help this boy, _save_ this boy? Is he even capable of such a thing? He's never been a father to anyone, he has no experience with children, and Kai still seems so wary, even of him. What had caused this mistrust, these walls, to be built?

Lefty consoles him. Reminds him he still has time, and he has help. Once Kai relaxes and opens up more and more the crew can help more and more. It worries Lefty too, he worries about the toll it'll take on his friend. What if the boy's burdens become Yung's and the man starts to crumble under the weight? Carrying other people's pain is a daunting prospect.

Nearly a week has passed since Kai's arrival on the ship, and Lefty's taking a rare moment of peace and solitude in his part of the sleeping quarters. There's small curtains that can be drawn around each bed and trunk, a small space to call his own, but most of the crew hardly ever uses them. They're all men, and there's almost never a reason to hide anything - emotional or physical - from each other. Kai never peels his curtains back. Lefty rummages around in the small trunk at the base of his bed, his hand sliding along the bottom, searching for the sole photograph he has.

It's of his parents (both pirates themselves) and of him, only 13 years old, standing in front of a ship much smaller than the _Waterbender_ , called the _Rabaroo._ Lefty had left it behind so many years ago, but he can still remember the layout, the feel of his parents' hands on his shoulders as the photographer snapped the picture. They had died in a storm at sea only a year later. It doesn't hurt anymore - time dulls pain, Lefty has found - but it's nice to remember their smiles. He always keeps it under a pair of socks that don't fit him anymore, but strangely enough, it's not there.

And he has a feeling he knows exactly where to find it.

He confronts Yung about it first, knowing it's the smarter option even if part of him wants to scream at Kai for taking it. Golden trinkets, silver coins, he can understand a boy on the streets taking that out of habit, out of insecurity. But an ancient photo of another man's family? Who does that?

He also knows he could take it up with Zaheer, but the Captain's made it very clear that if Kai steals anything, he'll be chucked in the ocean without a second thought. It's not fair to waste Yung's hard work (even if has made very little progress) and as angry as he is at the boy, no one deserves a death like that, much less a little kid.

Yung looks at him gravely. "And you're sure you haven't misplaced it?"

Lefty nods. "I'm telling you, the little weasel took it-"

"Akash," Yung's voice turns stern, and the use of his real name catches Lefty off guard. "Don't do anything rash. He's just a little kid, no matter what he says. You were talking about your family the other day, after all."

That is true. Lefty had been drinking, not excessively, but still enough to loosen his lips when it came to almost anything really. Yung had made sure to keep the conversation towards things appropriate for a young boy to hear, however, so they had landed on the topic of Lefty's family.

"And?" Lefty snaps. "Your point is?" Yung sighs, as if he's an idiot, and Lefty doesn't want to admit the first mate probably needs to spell it out for him. "Fine, whatever. We'll talk to him together, then? He's more comfortable when you're around."

Yung almost smiles. "Really think so?"

"He doesn't look as ready to run, anyway," Lefty shrugs.

Yung brings Kai into the empty hallway with the mop closet after dinner, where Lefty's waiting for them. Kai's eyes are on the floor, and he's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt (a very old one that Ryu outgrew over a year ago, which still swallows Kai's thin frame). Lefty thinks that for someone who's stolen things before, Kai should be much better at not looking so guilty.

"Well?" Lefty blurts out before he can stop himself, and maybe it comes out more harshly than he means to. Kai flinches and Lefty realizes the kid's clenched his fists. As if he might need to defend himself. As if Lefty might hit him. Lefty's anger evaporates.

"I'm sorry I took it," Kai mumbles, and Yung holds up Lefty's missing photograph, still perfectly sealed in its frame. No damage whatsoever has come to it. "I was just curious..."

"About my family?" Lefty asks, taking extra care to make sure his voice stays soft and gentle.

Kai's next words are barely audible. "About what it's like to be part of one."

Lefty doesn't know what to do as his throat turns as dry as sandpaper, and he just watches as Yung crouches so he's on Kai's eye-level, and slowly puts his hands on Kai's shoulders. They engulf his small shoulders, but rather than weighing him down they seem to lift him up.

"You're part of one now kiddo," Yung whispers. "Just trust me, okay?"

Kai doesn't say anything, Lefty suspects he doesn't know what to say. Kai just swallows hard, jerks his head into the tiniest of nods, although whether he's agreeing, believing, in what Yung says, Lefty isn't sure.

Lefty clears his throat as the following silence stretches on just a moment too long. "Just don't take anything else, okay Kai?"

"I won't," Kai says immediately, and their gazes lock, and Lefty knows he's being truthful.

"Attaboy."

And then Kai does something Lefty's never seen him do before: he smiles. Wide and so much brighter it seems to light up his whole face and for once he actually looks his age, and it's so infectious Lefty can't help but smile back.

Yung's grinning too, but then glances at the clock at the end of the hall. "Kai, it's time for you to go to bed." Never mind the fact the rest of the crew will stay up another three hours at least, but Lefty figures Kai can use the extra sleep. The boy doesn't need to be told twice: he practically runs out of the dining hall.

Lefty and Yung's chuckles blend together as he does so, their laughter fading as Lefty voices what Yung must have known all along: "He's a good kid."

A little wary, more than a little damaged, and definitely a work progress, but he's a good kid. Lefty supposes for now, it's enough.


	2. year one: part two

THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM

* * *

 _year one_

"You're not weak just because your heart feels so heavy."  
―Andrea Gibson

 _[part two]_

* * *

Daw figures that anyone who eats as much of his food as Kai does is alright by him. The boy is still awfully quiet, and the only one he really talks to is Yung, but Daw doesn't mind. His little brother, Jano, hardly ever spoke around strangers either, but when it was him and his brother and sisters, it was impossible to get him to shut up. Maybe Kai is the same way.

Kai is starting to smile more though, quick twitches more than anything else, whenever Daw gives him a second helping at dinner. It's encouraging though, especially to Yung. Although, if Daw has to describe Kai in one word, it'd probably be twitchy. Or maybe nervous? The kid's tiny, and Daw has no doubts that the only reason the boy's scraped by for so long is that his size is levelled out by his speed. Or his knowledge of hiding places.

Either way, Daw makes sure to give Kai extra large helpings, and the boy wolfs them down every time, his legs dangling over the rim of his chair, his feet just scraping the floor.

Kai hasn't been put into the formal chore rotation ―cleaning, cooking, laundry, lookout, more cleaning, more cooking, even more laundry, inventory, and then cleaning again― but eventually Zaheer decides Kai's spent enough time swabbing the deck, so Kai comes into the kitchen for the first time. It's a small space, compared to the dining hall that's slowly becoming slightly cramped. The wood burning stove is tucked away in the corner, with slabs of wooden countertops littered in marks from knives, and a vast array of sloping cupboards set on top. Chipped bowls and plates and cutlery are stacked in teetering piles, and beyond that is the pantry, filled to the brim with bread and cheese and spices and everything in between.

Kai fidgets when he enters, and Daw wonders for a moment if the kid's ever been around so much food in his life. "You ever chopped vegetables before?" Daw asks gently, and Kai nods.

"Kind of," the boy shrugs.

"Well, this'll be a good chance to practice," Daw smiles. "Just be careful, we don't want you getting hurt."

Kai slowly picks up the knife, and Daw wonders if anyone's ever told him that before. Kai's chopped vegetables (most of them are tomato-bananas) are lumpy and uneven, but that's more than alright. They're pirates and it's stew and for most of them being picky has never been an option.

"Good job," Daw tells him, peering over Kai's narrow shoulders. The cook picks up the chopping board with the vegetables and lets them spill into the stew.

"Really?" Kai asks doubtfully.

"Really," Daw confirms, and Kai smiles a little. "I'm gonna cook some meat and chop that up, but I made some cookies earlier and you can put the chocolate chips in if you want. Just give each cookie a few."

The cookie tray is full of soft squashy brown dough in fat circular shapes, ready to go inside the oven once Kai's finished administering the chocolate. Kai hesitates after he wrestles open the orange packaging of the chocolate chips, his hand hovering over the bag. Daw glances away from the meat he has grilling in the pan towards Kai.

"Something wrong?" Daw says curiously.

"No," Kai says quickly. "Just...I used to steal cookies. Sometimes. 'Cause they were small, so I could get away with it, but..." He rubs the back of his neck, something Daw has come to know (from word of Yung) is a nervous or awkward gesture. "I've never had someone cook for me before. Not really."

"My mother taught me how to cook," Daw says with a smile. "She didn't have the best health, and I was the oldest with my father at work, so I grew up cooking for my younger siblings. Now I just cook for a much larger family. I'm blessed, very blessed."

"So..." the word sits in Kai's mouth. "You think of the crew as a family too? It's not just Yung?"

Daw nods. "Not just Yung. We may not be a regular family with a mom and dad, but we're like a bunch of brothers. Even if Captain Zaheer is kinda scary sometimes."

Kai meets his eye and then drops his gaze, turning back to the cookies, seemingly needing some kind of distraction. It's clear to Daw that emotions and opening up is hardly Kai's strong suit. "I guess that makes sense."

Daw wonders if Kai had any brothers, or siblings. What happened to them if he did. He thinks about his younger siblings, especially his little brother, how Jano would always beg for Daw to let him eat cookies for dinner or lick the batter bowl clean. "Tell you what," Daw crouches down so he's on Kai's eye-level, and jabs a thin finger towards the cookie tray. "Once the cookies are done, you get first dibs."

Kai's lips twitch upwards, and his eyes flicker in between Daw's smiling face and cookies, looking almost like he's going to argue, but he nods slightly. "Okay."

After dousing the cookies in a healthy helping of chocolate chips, and waiting eagerly while they bake in the oven, Kai helps himself to the biggest, fattest one, and stuffs it greedily in his mouth, his eyes alight with happiness. He's acting like a kid for once.

Daw can't wait to tell Yung.

The stew is boiling and the rest of the cookies have been put in a tin for later, him and Kai cleaning up a bit of the kitchen, Daw telling or showing him where everything goes, when there's a soft meow at his ankle. A black cat with white around her face is rubbing against his leg, and Daw grins as he reaches down to scratch at the cat's ears.

"This is Whiskers," Daw explains, glancing at Kai. "I'm not sure if you two have met yet. She doesn't like a noise and she takes a while to warm up to strangers."

Kai stoops and gets on his knees, reaching out tentatively. Whiskers regards him with dark eyes for a moment, before she lets his fingers run over her coat and scratch under her chin, purring softly. "I think she likes me," Kai says with a smile. "I've always liked animals."

"They like you right back then," Daw says, but wags his finger at Whiskers. "I don't have any treats for you today, if that's what you've come for, silly cat."

If cats can give pirates (or frankly anyone) reproachful looks, than that's what Whiskers gives Daw. She lets Kai scratch under her chin a little more, licks Kai's fingers, and then walks out of the dining hall, probably to find a new napping place or to use her litter box, or to catch some of the remaining sunlight up on deck.

"Can you go tell everyone dinner's ready?" Daw asks, and Kai nods.

"Sure." The boy races up the stairs, still with the trace of a smile on his face, which persists throughout dinner even. It makes Daw grin, even more so when he sees how, for the first time since Kai had come onboard, Yung actually looks content. Progress is being made, slowly but surely.

Then again, there's not a doubt in Daw's mind that Yung didn't know it wouldn't be easy. The first mate just knew it would be worth it.

* * *

Ryu has never had a little brother, and quite frankly, now that he knows what it's like to have Kai, he's glad he didn't have one growing up. Ryu can't believe the sass, mostly little comments Kai will snark under his breath, but still. It's annoying, and unnecessary. Ryu just wants to finish his chores so he can nap, or eat, or both. Both is always good. He's 17, for God's sake. He doesn't want to put up with this pint-sized smartass.

He's one of the closest in age to Kai though, Bansi being 16 and Nidhi and Po are both 15 (Po's loud enough for the both of them) and among the four of them, Ryu's been here the longest, which still isn't that long. Only 3 years, but long enough he knows the ins and outs of things far better than Bansi, who's more interested in his music than his chores, and Nidhi and Po are too busy making art and repairing parts of the ship with the latter's excellent carpenter skills.

So, of course, Ryu's the scapegoat. Why does the universe hate him? He just wants to sleep.

Which is exactly why he's irritated when he sees Kai's fallen asleep in the middle of swabbing the deck, using the mop to keep himself upright. Not bothering to be gentle, Ryu smacks the kid upside the back of his head. "Hey, snoozles, you sleep after your job is done."

Kai jumps, startles and then rubs the back of his head, shooting Ryu a glare. "You didn't have to do it so hard," he snaps, and then angrily continues on with his chore. "I've been hit enough for a lifetime, thank you very much."

Ryu feels a pang of guilt. Oh yeah. Yung had something along those lines. _He's quiet because he's not comfortable, and his body's healing from abuse and malnutrition, so try to take it easy on him. Be friendly too. We want him to trust us._

Kai's eyes widen as he seems to realize what he's said, and abruptly shuts his mouth and turns his back on Ryu, as if ashamed. Well great, now Ryu feels uncomfortable, awkwardness lodging in his throat. He had done something without thinking and he's sure it had brought back some unpleasant memories, because unlike with everyone else on the ship, none of them know a thing about Kai.

They know he was found in Omashu, they know he's been alone for a while. Possibly forever. It's written on his body in scars, in flinches, in tiny smiles. He's been hurt. Badly. Ryu's never been the best at bandaging people up ―that's Longshot's expertise, or maybe Yung, or maybe even Po and Nidhi who despite their youth can craft amazing furniture out of scraps of wood― but he supposes maybe he can be a little gentler.

"Sorry," Ryu manages out. "I won't do it again."

Kai pauses in his mopping, his tight grip on the mop handle loosening. "Alright," he says quietly.

They swab the rest of the deck in silence, and once it's time for their afternoon break, Ryu stows away their mops on the top shelf of the small storage section of the on-deck weapons room, before Kai can even struggle to reach it.

"Thanks," Kai says, surprised.

Ryu shrugs. "Don't worry about it." He smiles, which is a rare thing, as frowns are far more common, and Kai returns it slightly. Maybe they do have something in common.

Maybe having some kind of little brother wouldn't be all that bad, after all.

Still, Ryu's cursing every god he knows when he wakes up to the sound of screaming in the night. If they're being raided become someone fell asleep on lookout, or someone couldn't watch where they were going and fell, he's gonna―

Kai. He was screaming. Now he's shaking, sitting upright in his bed as whoever is closest to the candle set in the grate in the wall is starting to light the others along the room. Yung's already by the boy's side, the first mate's face wide and urgent and staring at Kai, who's bowed his head.

"I'm fine I'm fine I'm sorry just go back to sleep it was just a bad dream I'm okay―" Kai's muttering, his face burning up with shame and Yung's shaking his head, placing his hands on Kai's trembling shoulders.

"You're not." Yung's voice is quiet and gentle, as Kai curls in on himself and Yung tries to get the boy to look him in the eye. Yung grasps at the back of Kai's night shirt, which is far too big for him, trying to pull him out of the way he has his face buried in his knees.

Yung manages to get Kai to go to the kitchen.

It's been nearly two and a half weeks since Kai had joined the crew, and Ryu wonders, since the nightmare most likely has something to do with it, if Kai will finally start opening up about whatever got him on the streets. About what happened to him in general. An hour or so later, the candles have been snuffed again and whatever muttering or whispers that had risen among their half of the crew has died down. Ryu can hear Lefty's snores a few beds over when the door creaks open and Yung, looking sad and tired and frustrated all at the same time, comes back into the room with a sullen Kai in tow.

Ryu doubts Kai opened up. This is the first nightmare, though.

It's not the last. The nightmares are sporadic, sometimes three times a week, sometimes less, often more. Kai tries to keep them quiet, but most pirates are typically light sleepers, needing to be ready to defend themselves from a nighttime raid, or some other dangerous incident, so even his best efforts to bite back the first of the screams, once he's fully awake, don't really work.

Kai never cries though. Doesn't ever look anything beyond ashamed or frustrated, with flashes of hurt flickering underneath just like the candles adorning the walls after another one of his nightmares.

It's not like none of them get nightmares. Getting stabbed or other close calls have a tendency to be relived, but it's never common enough, never loud enough, to be an issue. There's hardly any screaming. Heart sinking, Ryu wonders what exactly Kai's been through to warrant such violent nightmares that haunt him nearly every night.

The men don't mean for it to happen, but the lack of sleep starts affecting them too. Nidhi falls asleep on his brother Po's shoulder in the middle of lunch, Lefty dozes off by the steering wheel a few times, and even Yung is rubbing at his eyes. Kai, amazingly, seems to be the least affected, but Ryu supposes when it's something he's dealt with for so long his body's just adjusted to it.

Zaheer eventually figures out what's happening and demands a reason. Yung's the one who tells him, making sure that the Captain can't even look at the boy much less glare at him afterwards, Kai carefully tucked away behind the first mate, who remains in a protective stance throughout the conversation, speaking rationally and calmly even as Zaheer's scowl grows deeper and fiercer.

The Captain's fuming once Yung's explanation is finished. "Well, isn't that lovely?! So what do you suppose we do? I can't have my men falling asleep at all hours of the day because of some stupid―"

Kai flinches when Zaheer gestures wildly with one scarred hand, and suddenly Ryu can't take it anymore.

"He could sleep in another room," Ryu suggests. Zaheer pauses, and then turns his glare on Ryu, arching one thick eyebrow. Ryu ducks his head, suddenly meek but refusing to stay silent. "We must have a spare room. Doesn't have to be big."

Yung's eyes light up. "The cabin boy's room, we use it for storage only. Has thick walls. It'd be perfect."

Zaheer slowly lowers his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers. "I...suppose that could work."

Ryu's tasked with cleaning it out alongside Yung, Bansi, Appa, and Imaru. (Kai's on cooking duty again with Daw.) The real job is cleaning the room out, more than moving any of Kai's possessions (two: his bed and a few clothes, neither of which were originally his) into the room. Yung finds an old camera and tosses it into one of their crates along with some outdated star charts that may still make a fair penny to some fancy old collector, and Imaru takes one of the vases they found, excitedly talking of putting a new flower in it. Appa places Kai's bed in the room with ease, and sets it down with a gentleness one would have found unbelievable from a man so big.

Kai, on the other hand, is the opposite. He's so tiny. So breakable. Ryu wonders how many times a boy no older than 10 can fall apart.

He just hopes, with Yung and the rest of their help, they can figure out a way to put him back together.

* * *

Yung is the last one to turn in for the night, everyone else having already gone to bed hours ago, when he ambles into the kitchen in search of a glass of water. Instead, he finds Kai passed out, with his head using the dining room table as a pillow, snoring softly. Yung can't help but smile softly, especially when he sees Whiskers curled up under Kai's chair, her eyes shining in the darkness as she sits as a kind of silent guardian. (She's taken to Kai much more quickly than anyone anticipated.)

It isn't often he gets to see the 9-year-old looking so peaceful, or quiet. Yung wonders how the boy ended up here. Nightmares, maybe? He knows Kai gets them, and it's the reason he was moved from the main sleeping quarters to the old cabin boy's room. At any rate, Yung's glad to see him sleeping soundly. He hates the idea of disturbing him, but knows his body and neck will be stiff and awkward if he sleeps like that the whole night.

Yung sighs and sends up a quick prayer that Kai won't wake up as he walks over to the boy, and cautiously, carefully, pulls Kai into his arms. The boy's lighter than he expected, but still knows that Kai has gained a good deal of much needed weight in the four weeks he's been with the crew. Luckily, Kai doesn't stir, and Yung takes in the bags under with his closed eyes with a frown. Balancing his duty as first mate, and having Zaheer breathing down his neck to find a new medic, and still helping Kai adjust to his new life hadn't been easy, but had Yung really started neglecting the boy?

He'll do a better job of looking after him, Yung promises himself. This boy is his responsibility, even if Kai doesn't really want to be, even if most of the crew, Zaheer included, still thinks he's absolutely insane.

Kai curls into Yung slightly, his fingers grasping at the fabric of Yung's sleeves, and Yung thinks once, someone must have loved Kai. The kid's parents, even when he was just a baby. A sibling maybe. Or a friend. He must have had someone, once. Someone who treated him properly ―someone who loved him the way everyone deserves to be loved. Yung doesn't know what hurts more: being unsure if anyone ever did, or knowing someone did but the world hurt Kai enough to leave him so hurt and bleeding.

Yung carries Kai over to the small cabin boy's room and lays him down on the unkempt bed. The rest of Kai's room is much neater, seeing as there isn't really anything in there other than the bed and a dresser that's not even half full with a few full outfits of clothing. He's never seen the boy look so peaceful, or so young. Usually Kai's eyes let him forget that the boy is only 9 years old.

Yung thinks back to the other week, when Kai had had his first nightmare and Yung had coaxed him out of the sleeping quarters and into the dining hall. Sat him down with a hot chocolate and pleading, gentle eyes, wanting him to open up. Wanting him to feel safe enough to do so. But Kai had just stared blankly at the table, the boy's green eyes void of any light, full of shame and fury and something else, something that aches, simmering underneath like a storm rolling over the horizon. Yung doesn't want Kai to drown in it, but he can't pull him to a lifeboat all by himself. Kai needs to accept the help. And that, if anything, is one of the most heartbreaking things about it.

But here, Kai looks safe. Damaged maybe, but safe, as he snuggles into his pillow and Yung smiles.

"I'm going to take care of you," he whispers, gently, ever so gently, brushing back tufts of Kai's hair from his forehead, so as not to wake up. Not to break him when he's already so fragile, underneath the armour. "I know it's hard for you to believe that. I know you've been on your own for a long time. But you're not alone anymore. I promise."

He hopes Kai hears him. He thinks maybe he does, since the boy's lips curve upwards in a small, sleepy smile.

Yung goes back to the kitchen for a glass of water and finds Daw rummaging around in the pantry. "Why're you up?" the cook yawns, a bottle of spice in one hand.

Yung raises his glass of water in answer. "Found Kai at the dining room table."

"Nightmares?" Daw guesses. Although the pirate sleeps in the other half of the sleeping quarters across the hall, Yung knows that Lefty or Ryu or one of the others must have told him. News spreads in a matter of minutes on the ship (both a blessing and a curse).

"Won't open about them," Yung says, nearly grumbling. "But yeah."

"It'll come in time," Daw reassures him, placing a hand on Yung's shoulder.

"It's just the way he looked at me," Yung says softly, his voice growing sad. Daw mulls over Yung's words for a moment, and jerks his head towards the kettle. Soon, they have steaming mugs of tea sitting in front of them as they sit across from each other at the dining table, and the cook gestures for his friend to continue.

So Yung swallows hard, and keeps on talking. "It was so...empty. But also angry, and fearful. Like he's waiting for me to ask something of him. Like I can't just help him because I want to, like I have to want something else."

"I don't think he's known much kindness," Daw says, before taking a sip of his tea. "Besides, you're asking quite a lot from him."

Yung's brow furrows. "I am?"

"You're asking him to trust you. I have a feeling he's been stabbed in the back before―perhaps figuratively and literally. He's young but he's hurt. You gotta give him time. He'll open up, eventually. You think my little brother and sisters always told me everything right away?" Daw smiles, and Yung has a hunch he's thinking back to his childhood. "No, but they always confided in me eventually. Better late than never, right?"

Yung nods. "Right. You're right...I just―I'm in way over my head," Yung admits weakly. "I don't regret it, but I have no idea what I'm doing. I never had any little siblings, I never thought I'd have kids, and now I'm...He's not gonna be easy." Daw nods. "He'll be worth it though. Somehow."

"Lemme tell you something about kids," Daw finishes his tea and sets his mug down. "My brother, Jano, we all thought he'd never settle down, but then he got his girl pregnant and he kinda got wrangled into it. And now his kids are the light of his life, and only one of them can talk yet. When you have a kid, your life's not your own anymore. It's shared. It's secondary to whoever your kid's life is. You're gonna be the cornerstone of this kid's world. You're gonna be Kai's constant. The first one he's ever had, probably. It'll give you meaning, 'cause you give him meaning. People help people, all the time, in all sorts of ways. What makes the world go round when all you want is for it to stop."

Yung finds tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. "When you'd get so wise?" Yung asks fondly.

Daw shrugs and smiles. "Good food and advice. My only two specialties."

At that, Yung shakes his head and chuckles. "Nah. You're a good friend too." Daw inclines his head, accepting the compliment. "What were you doing up, anyway?"

"Looks like you didn't realize how late it is. It's nearly six in the morning. You know I start getting breakfast ready earlier than anyone," Daw explains.

Yung rises from the table. "Want some help with it?"

Daw joins him and they both grin. "'Course."


End file.
